What part will you play?
It's been a bit of a week.
Over the last few days one of my cousins started posting online about a hospital visit to check something potentially serious. It's all been a bit cloak-and-dagger, and a bit awkward. It's difficult sometimes to just go with what people feel comfortable sharing.
Then last night we got word that an aunt is seriously ill too.
I spoke to my other half last night, and our thoughts immediately turned to “how might we be able to help” – but really there's not much you can do other than be there for people if they need you.
It makes you realise that life really isn't a dress rehearsal. We get one chance at this. That doesn't necessarily mean you have to do anything big to qualify having “spent your life well”, but it does perhaps mean you stop putting things off until tomorrow.
It's strange – as I got older, my family got bigger and bigger – with new generations having children. Over the last few years it's starting to get smaller. Nobody lives forever, and as you grow older, you become ever more aware that some depart before their time.
Shakespeare had some words on this, didn't he:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
As John Keating might have asked in Dead Poets Society, “what part will you play?”